


Fly Again

by kuking



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, Idol AU, M/M, Slow Build, contains spoilers chapter 812+, friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuking/pseuds/kuking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji wanted to be filthy famous but instead he was surrounded by filthy boys who couldn't sing and dance and could someone help out Luffy, he's choking on a sequin again aka the One Piece Idol AU that no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fly Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work of fandom fiction, ever. I've been anxiously preparing this for awhile now and will hopefully update monthly. One Piece and idols are my two great passions so I've taken the chance and smashed the two together to give you this AU. The characters, songs, and the organizational structure are heavily based on Johnny's Entertainment. I might make a few references to the kpop idol culture but I will be focusing mostly on Japan and their idol industry. 
> 
> I currently do not have a beta, so please be wary. If anyone would like to kindly give me a hand, please send me a message. Preferably I would like someone who also has some background in the idol culture so we can double check facts and such but any help is greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece at all. This is a non-profit work and pays a simple homage to a series created by Oda Eiichiro.

Above the rumble of the train wheels and the constant hum of private conversations, Sanji could hear furious whispers behind him.

Shutting his cellphone with a snap Sanji stole a quick glance under the shade of his long fringe. A group of animated high school girls anxiously shuffling their way towards him confirmed his suspicions. Sanji ran a hand through his locks and squared his shoulders.

He looked great, scratch that, fucking fantastic. And of course he did. It was recording day.

Sanji spent not only the earlier half of his day primping himself (recording days call for his seven step skin care routine) but had spent a good chunk of time with his hairdresser yesterday (his roots were showing). It was a shame that he didn’t inherit his father’s golden locks but that could easily be corrected with an appointment at his favorite salon. Besides, he couldn’t let Cavendish one up him. The other boy had gotten his highlights done the other week. Whatever Cavendish may claim about being a natural blonde, Sanji knew a bottle blonde when he saw one; he was one himself after all. Stifled giggles and a light tap on his shoulder brought Sanji out of his musings.

“Excuse me? Are you Sanji?” ,a shy voice inquired.

The said boy turned around, a look of surprise fixed on his face as if he didn’t at all noticed the trio since they entered the carriage half an hour ago. Sanji melted into a warm smile and nodded gently, his chest swelling at how the girls turned to each other, squeals rising an octave. The well-rehearsed dialogue flowed naturally: why hello ladies, oh you want to shake my hand? Of course anything for you. And a selfie? Why, it would be my-

“Could you give this to Law?” another girl thrusted a neatly wrapped box toward Sanji, her hand trembled as she ducked her face to hide the growing blush which powered her cheeks.

Sanji’s smile faltered for a slight moment but he gave the girls a firm nod of reassurance and tucked the gift into his bag. More squeals followed. Sanji knew it wasn’t for him in particular but that their token of appreciation would finally be given to their beloved idol. The girls profusely thanked him and returned back to their corner of the train.

Sanji let out an inaudible sigh. He didn’t mind of course, passing on gifts to his colleagues. He would do anything for fans, even if they weren’t fans of himself. Plus Law wasn’t a bad guy. He worked hard, harder than many, frustratingly so. He was talented and passionate, it only made sense results and fame followed.

Law’s fans though weren’t the least of his concerns; it was when he was approached by rougher, older men. Many mistook him for Killer. Kid and Killer’s punk rock work attracted a crowd unlike the high school girls and housewives Sanji preferred.

But sometimes, once in awhile, fans who were truly Sanji’s, and Sanji’s alone appeared. Those moments although far in between kept Sanji going through harsh practices and stolen opportunities.

_“The next stop will be Akasaka Station. Thank you for riding with Tokyo Metro. The doors on the right side will open. ”_

Sanji slipped through the carriage doors before the first wave of boarders rushed in. Through the throngs of people collected near the platform, Sanji followed the natural flow of the crowd and made his way near the subway walls. After a final check, making sure his cellphone, wallet, and cigarette pack was still on his person, Sanji made his way towards the exit of the station.

Blowing his bangs to the side, Sanji’s eyes caught the advertisement decorating the grungy subway walls. With a loud groan Sanji briskly made his way down the hall. Plastered throughout the subway were ceiling to floor advertisements of a new lip balm line, and who of course graced the covers but Trafalgar Law himself.

A grin slipped on Sanji’s face as he remembered how offended Law had been when ranted between water breaks that the sponsors wanted his signature smudged eyeliner wiped off in exchange for a refreshing nude palette.

Even without his dark kohl eyeliner, Law still looked like…well Law. There weren’t many people in Japan who didn’t know him, which was an amazing feat, considering he still wasn’t debuted.

Sanji took a final glance at the advertisement. It’s been years since he’s seen Law look like he had 8 hours of sleep. Their company should had given the sponsorship deal to guys who didn’t have a schedule packed to the brim like Law. Guys like Sanji.

In Sanji’s humble opinion, he would obviously chose himself for the deal. But there was one thing he would begrudgingly agree with: he wasn’t in such good graces with his company, and even more importantly, the public, to obtain such an important sponsorship.

Sanji found the exit, and began his long ascend up the stairs into the outside world. Whatever, Law could take those dingy walls. He could take over the entirety of Japan for all Sanji cared because Sanji aimed higher. It was All Blue or nothing.

Sanji wanted to be filthy famous. The kind of fame where the mere utter of his name brought out mixed shrills and screams of either desire or hatred. He wanted the kind of glory memorialized on the bedrooms of girls across nations and through the nasty heresy of others. Hell, Sanji knew he’d made it big time when tabloid magazines began bargaining thousands of dollars just to dig up a single piece of information on him. Sanji wanted to be suffocated with attention, the spotlight tracking his every step and breath. The kind of suffocation he was enduring now was the rush hour of Tokyo’s busy streets as he stumbled through the crowds.

Sanji forsake disguises long ago primarily because he adored being recognized out on the streets. Even if he wasn’t, Sanji always dressed to impress, for passing on goers who did not know his face nor name, he wanted, no he needed to be impressionable. And unforgettable. And late.

Oh god, he was going to be late. Sanji caught the flashing lights on the side of building glaring back at him 12:45. Picking up his pace, and leaving a trail of excuse me and pardon me Sanji rounded a corner.

Jogging through the crowds, Sanji’s mind flashed back to the announcement he was reading earlier on the train on his phone before his attention wandered to the girls behind him. A new trainee group will be making their debut at today’s show. He left particularly early that day because he wanted to see who the lucky guys were.

Sanji hummed in curiosity going through the list of potential candidates. Rob Lucci was highly possible. There had been talks of bringing back CP9. Or perhaps Gin will be given another chance. The poor guy was given the starving idol treatment. While it was the industry’s open secret, the pressure Don Kreig had placed on the idols he was responsible for placed the entire band in the hospital. Once the reporters…accidentally…got a hold of a voice recording of his vocal abuse and treatment of Gin and his band mates, he was booted out to save the company’s face and reputation.

And what about him, Blackleg Sanji? Sanji let out a loud snort, startling the people around him. He was defiantly on the bottom of everyone’s list.

Sanji wasn’t musically inclined but he thought his height and athleticism would overshadow his lackluster areas. But the moment Sanji had entered the audition room several years ago, his height and athleticism became the mere minimum rather than the advantage.

As much as he had the drive and tenacity to practice long into the night, Cavendish’s delicious tenor vocals easily overshadowed Sanji’s. As much as Sanji drilled choreography into entire being it wasn’t the same as Apoo whose body naturally flowed with enviable rhythm. He never learned how to play an instrument nor had any sort of schooling in musical theory, playing in a band like Law went out the window since day one. And although Sanji was a pretty boy so were countless others in the industry. Sanji did not have the ‘look’ nor countenance for a special punk pop group like Kid.

He was neither the best nor the worst, he was average. And the world that Sanji craved to belong in didn’t have a place for the average.

Averages were nobodies.

Sanji had long decided that he was going to debut, and damn it whether sooner or later his name will be on every board and bill. And if he can’t be placed in a group band, then he won’t settle for one. He’ll go solo. He’ll prove to himself and everyone else that Blackleg Sanji will be the biggest solo male talent. One day.

Setting aside long term goals for now, Sanji contented himself on achieving the smaller things in life, like getting to work on time. Picking up his pace, Sanji hefted his bag higher onto his shoulder, and jogged lightly toward his destination.

While the building itself did not showcase the architectural mastery that the surrounding skyscrapers boasted, Baroque Works Headquarters was a fantastic sight to see.

Home to Japan’s largest talent agency dedicated to male idols and trainees Baroque Works possessed billboards after billboards of glamorous men plastered onto its windows. An immense flat screen mounted above the entrance played Alabasta’s newest music video. Just as Kohza’s unimpressed stare exploded onto the screen Sanji slipped into the building. Grabbing his phone out of his pockets and glancing down at the phone’s locked screen, it read back 12:54. Sanji hummed happily as he paused in front of the security check stationed in the foyer, enjoying the soft blow of the air curtain.

A loud ahem stirred Sanji out of his short pause. Sanji sheepishly smiled at the stern faced receptionist, waving at her to inform that he wasn’t some loiterer seeking refuge from Tokyo’s blazing sun or an overzealous fan attempting to sneak into the building. Then again, to Kalifa, everyone was a loiterer, idol or not. The woman squinted at Sanji, pursed her lips, and went back furiously typing away at her desktop. Sanji rummaged through his bag, and pulled out his ID. He slid it through the front gates with practiced ease and waltzed towards the receptionist desk.

“Hello my dear Kalifa! It’s so nice to see you!” Sanji gushed as he set his elbows on the counter of her desk, his chin cradled on his threaded fingers.

The receptionist barely raised her gaze up from her computer screen and replied back curtly, “that’s sexual harassment.” Sanji picked up himself from the desk, and bashfully blurted out an apology.

“Also, Crocodile wants to see you. Immediately,” this time Kalifa did look up from her desk. Her neutral expression looking almost solemn. Is that pity Sanji detected? Sanji swooned, she does care after all! He thanked Kalifa and the receptionist replied with a mere raise of her meticulous eyebrow.

Sanji grimaced as he entered the elevator and stabbed the button for the top floor. What is it about this time? Surely this isn’t about him smoking again? He’s 21! Long an adult! Besides he’s been careful about smoking in public, if he wants to start raking in sponsorships he needs to put up an image of respectability and wholesomeness.

Sanji barked out a nasty laugh. Let’s start with something small like not smacking around the paparazzi? Yeah, that’s sounds like a plan, one small step at a time.

Was it about Marguerite? But he hasn’t seen her in ages because of their respective idol activities.

Sanji leaned against the glass elevator, watching the cityscape widen, the ever bustling streets of Tokyo alive and pumping.

Maybe Crocodile was going to debut him? Sanji chuckled, impossible.

Even being a trainee under Baroque Works for almost a decade he knew he wasn’t ready. Not yet anyways.

The elevator ringed out at the designated floor. With lead filled feet Sanji walked out, his shoulders feeling like a ton, his duffle bag sliding down his shoulder, suddenly feeling much heavier than it did all day. If felt all too soon when Sanji came face to face with the large looming door, the gold plaque gleaming back, _Crocodile_ written in impending bold font. Sanji clenched his fists at his sides. Visits to Crocodile were always the same. Sanji hated setting foot into the President’s office. Because maybe, Crocodile was going to let him go.

Sanji had numerous troubles and complaints against him. He was hard to train, and it took long hours for him to nail a note or a dance move. He even held a couple scandals under his belt. Why would Crocodile cover for him any longer? He was a mere trainee. A hopeful idol wannabe.

Sanji lifted his fist and held it against the door. But he faltered. Lowering his fist in resignation Sanji made to turn away but the door swiftly opened.

“Sanji you’re here. I thought I heard the elevator doors.” Sanji glanced up.

Standing before him was the ever so lovely Vice-President of Baroque Works, Nico Robin. A small smirk graced her fine features, she opened the door wider and waited for the younger man to get in. Sanji smiled weakly and nodded his head in greeting. Anxiety overcoming his need to greet the woman in his usual eqtiquette.

“About time,” a gruff voice barked out.

Sanji visibly flinched and looked before him. Sitting in a large dark mahogany desk was Sir Crocodile sprawled over a leather chair, defiantly worth more than his entire year’s paycheck. And the very guy who signed those paychecks was looking more like an underground over lord than someone who made a living off of young boys. Well many would considered one and the same thing. The tension which emitted from Crocodile was worse than the cigar smoke which wavered around in a haze around the room.

Sanji bowed tersely, and mumbled a quiet “sir”.

Sanji turned his gaze on the window behind the man rather than directly at him.

Give me your worse.

“I’m putting you into a new group.”

Sanji tensed. This was horrible. This was exactly what he thought was going to happen. He didn’t think this day would coming any sooner. He was getting placed in a new group. Wait. He was getting placed in a new group!??

The announcement posted on the company’s website earlier today…that was for him.

But the waves of anxiety continued to storm throughout Sanji’s stomach. He took a big gulp and nodded at the larger man. There had been many attempts at placing Sanji in a group band and for some reason or another, they all had been failures.

Crocodile and the management team had long ago discovered Sanji was a difficult case. He had a stubborn personality, he worked hard and expected others to do the same. While average in both in the dancing and vocal realms, he had put everything that he had into everything. He was endearingly nasty, and pathetically hardworking. While he didn’t have a large following he had a loyal cult.

Crocodile knew, and Robin made sure he did, that Sanji had potential. Buried deep, deep, deep inside. They just need to dig it out forcefully then wait for the boy to decide one that he’ll stop underestimating himself and actually start working for the fame and glory shit he’s been sprouting about since day one.

That and there was stirrings around in Crocodile’s circle of connections that the Vinsmokes were looking to invest in the entertainment industry.

Crocodile had sneaking suspicions about Sanji ever since he set his eyes on the boy’s primary audition for the company.

Sanji was a Vinsmoke.

Surely this was something he could work to his advantage. One of the sons of Japan’s largest advanced technology corporation was dancing right under his fingers. Quite literally. Crocodile could excuse Sanji hitting a few rowdy paparazzi photographers once in awhile and his weekly trips to the salon without a second thought.

Crocodile swerved his chair and jutted out his chin.

“Both you and Roronoa.”

“What!”

Sanji whipped his head towards the sudden interjection. Before he could even utter a word Sanji was taken surprised by a voice unlike the deep gruff grunts of Crocodile and the silky tone of Robin.

Off to the side, was the fuming muscled bound idiot.

The perpetually scowling marimo.

Roronoa Zoro.

When did he get here? No wait. What. Both him and Roronoa?! Sanji’s face contorted into various stages of emotions. This is insane. Utter madness.

Zoro had only been in the agency for a couple months, and by far one of the latest trainees to sign up. Many began training as idols at the age of 10, Sanji himself 12. But Zoro waltzed in one day, already at 21, too old. And yet he somehow swayed whoever was judging at the auditions. And now he was one of the hottest in demand trainees, much to Sanji’s chagrin. It took him nine years to get where he was now! And now Mr. Marimo here think he can walk all over the progress he had made with his atrocious green hair, perpetually angry features, smooth tan skin, chiseled jaw, and hardly won muscles?

Whoa, going off detour here. Let’s backtrack Sanji.

But being placed in the same group as him? Now even Crocodile, who only personally involved himself when money was involved knew how much of a disaster Zoro and Sanji was being placed even within an earshot of one another.

In summation, Crocodile left all of the matters of his company to his ever able and all seeing Vice-President Robin but even Crocodile knew, oh boy, did he ever know too well by the long list of receipts and bills to replace broken mikes and the all too many dispersed dance practices of how conflict ridden the relationship between Sanji and Zoro was.

Crocodile puffed out a fat cloud of smoke in reply. The amount of money those two will be making for him will pay well over all the damages they caused. A mantra he now repeated as he tiredly watched the two boys bicker over, well, about nothing.

Crocodile glanced at Robin. It was all she needed from Crocodile to step up on cue, immediately shutting the two boys. Partly out of respect. Partly out of fear.

”Details will be discussed in the near future. However now our utmost concern is the recording today. Come on boys, you have a show to prepare for. ” She led Zoro and Sanji out of the room by the small of their backs, both boys fuming and throwing daggers at each.

Once they stepped out of the room and door safely shut, Robin whisked around gracefully, “You’ll being seeing Franky and Nami as soon as their previous duties permit them. They’ll respectively be overseeing your schedules and wardrobes.”

Again, with unsurmountable strength she slid both boys in the ready and opened elevator doors.

The awkward silence in the small glass box was stifling as both boys made it their utmost priority to not even try to acknowledge the other.

Sanji fumed in silent agony. Why Zoro out of the hundreds of other trainees in the company? Why the one idiot who absolutely had done nothing to receive the enviable amount of popularity and recognition be thrown together with Sanji, who actually tried his hardest to gain even the smallest of praises!? Pinching the bridge of his nose Sanji seethed.

What made matters worse was that Roronoa Zoro absolutely detested him. Sanji bickered with many other in the company but that was routine that was Sanji’s _thing_. Sanji knew, by the way the green haired man stormed out of the room whenever his mere presence came into notice, or even taking every chance of to mock him when his name was brought up that Zoro could not stand him period.

And you know what, fine. Since the first day they had met each other, when Zoro offhandedly made a comment about his eyebrows, Sanji decided that he couldn’t stand him either.

The door finally lighted up, and let the boys off on their designated floor. However both irritated idols had the same thing on their mind as they rushed out of the glass box.  But as fate had it for these two idiots, they were immediately stuck between the doors, elbowing each other to get out first. A chorus of snickers pulled the Sanji and Zoro from their bickering.

“It’s a good thing you’re both practically joined at the hip, that’ll prevent Sanji from leaving your new group any time possible,” A rough voice guffawed.

Sanji whipped his head toward Eustass Kid and managed to pull out his arm to flip a finger. Kid merely let out a snicker in reply.

Zoro used the chance while Sanji was distracted to squeeze out of the elevator.

“How do you guys know we’re in a group with each other?” Zoro crossed his arms and squinted. Sanji inwardly groan at the green haired man.

Well obviously because-

“It was posted on the website. There was an announcement that a new group was being announced today. And seeing as you guys just came from Croc’s office…” Heat trails off and heartily patted both Zoro and Sanji on the back.

Killer nodded agreement, “watching the news and the company’s website are the only way we know things around here.”

“That was how Corazon found out he debuted!”

A smooth baritone voice cuts through the discussion. Law strides into hallway a smug smirk in place, joining the small crowd of boys collected in front of the elevators, “the reaction video of him is still on YouTube. It’s priceless.”

Sachi and Penguin rounded the corner adjusting their caps and noticing the other boys waved at them in greeting. Sanji bumped shoulders with Law and silently passed him the gift he received earlier that day. Law gave Sanji’s arm a quick squeeze in thanks. How many times has it already happened this month? Four? Seven?

“No way man. Shanks was worse!” Eustass snickered. The red haired lead vocalist let his lips slack with his heavy lined eyes widening.

Wire took the cue and held his hand in front of Eustass, “Shanks, how do you feel about your first performance with your newly debuted group?”

Eustass whipped his head towards Wire, eyes wide and surprised, “I’m debuted?!”

The others boys roared with laughter. Sanji clutching his stomach at the Punk Hazard’s member’s reenactment. They told that joke almost weekly. Although Eustass’s exaggerated facials were hilarious Sanji thought Usopp was the best getting Shank’s absolute state of shock, stutter and all.

“If you guys are done talking shit about me,” a voice boomed behind the boys, causing a few to flinch, “head over to the dance room. We have several adjustments that need to be discussed about today’s set list.”

Shanks loomed over the group with an ever growing face splitting smile. Several boys shouted their greeting enthusiastically and a handful bowed at the man.

Romance Dawn was the pillar of Baroque Work’s monopolization of the Japanese entertainment industry and Shanks led this legendary group over a successful ten year run. It was thanks to Shanks and his group that Crocodile now had every pull and influence over the pop and media culture. However, Shanks dramatically halted his idol career at the age of 30 and settled down to start a family of his own. He then vied for an official position with the talent agency and was given the opportunity to manage Red Line, a bi-monthly show dedicated to showcasing Baroque Work’s undebuted talent.

Shanks devoted his time grooming trainees and preparing for their debut. While it was true Robin was well invested in their idols more so than their president it was always in a financial sense.

Shanks had learned harshly at a young age that no such services existed for a young idol’s emotional and mental wellbeing. So Shanks made sure the boys had someone they can look up to, someone they can confide in, someone who would defend them when the higher ups cared more about what went into their fat wallets than a young life being destroyed. Someone to whoop their ass into gear when they should be practicing.

Shanks raised his eyebrows at the static group who mulled around in casual conversation. He gave a loud a cough and then a satisfied nod as the boys scrambled away.

They’ll be fine. He’ll be there for them after all.

Sanji poured into the dance room with the rest of the boys, throwing his bag at the growing mountain of belongings in the corner. A hearty slap on his ass made the blonde raise his eyebrows ready to chew out the assailant but was instead greeted by a bustle of hair and a long nose.

“Oh hey Usopp!” The said boy cheekily smiled and looped his arm around Sanji’s.

“Congratulations my favorite home wrecker. Can’t wait to see you do away with this next set of unlucky boys.” Usopp snickered.

Sanji laughed back and guided his friend to an open spot on the floor, readily sharing what had happened in Crocodile’s office’s just moments before.

Usopp had joined Baroque Work’s at the same Sanji did, and together they suffered the harsh life of growing up in an industry that asked too much for too little. They began their camaraderie over embarrassing sequin laced shorts and later on through puberty and awkward haircuts and dye jobs. Here they were 9 years later and Usopp was one of the few Sanji could ever call a true friend. His best friend. His platonic soul mate. A brother in arms on a battle field for a full bottle of hairspray and a catchy song.

“Gather around brats,” Shanks yelled over the bustle of boys goofing around, “come on now. Are you idols or idiots?”

Usopp stopping midway through his latest gossip session with Sanji yelled back at the red head, “both!”

Shanks snorted as he looked at the boys with a shake of a head that only a loving and exasperated mother hen could successfully produce.

A ahem broke through the dance room. As quiet the interruption may had been, and as loud as the room was seconds before, everyone knew that ahem. That was Dracule Mihawk’s ahem. The room stilled as Mihawk entered the room with a click of his heels. Even Shanks froze as he watched his partner stand beside him and stared back at him with a piercing gaze.

“Are we starting or not.” It wasn’t a question. It was a threat.

The entire broke into a frantic yet organized beeline towards Shanks and Mihawk and settled down in a semi-circle around the two older men. Shanks sheepishly thanked Mihawk for his intervention. The other man responded with a slight nod and passed over a clipboard of their meeting notes. 

“As we all know its recording day. There’s a few changes that we will need to accommodate due to Coby’s asthma attack this morning.” A ripple of concerned whispers went through the room.

“He’s doing fine but he won’t be able to join us today. I’m going to need Marie Joie to see me right afterwards. Sentomaru will cover Coby in the mid-show medley by dancing in the middle rather than on the right. And Helmeppo will have to take over his lines. We’ll go over this during practice in just a moment.” Shanks announced, as he looked over the meeting notes, “Please send Coby your well wishes. He was looking pretty forward to today’s show.”

“Furthermore, as we all know, a new group will be announced today.” Several of the boys whooped and others gave out a steady applause.

Zoro’s eyebrows twitched. Really? Everyone knew? As he looked around and he saw other boys giving him cheeky grins and thumbs up.

“Congratulations to Sanji and Zoro on their new group.”

Sanji stood up and gave a dramatic bow as he waved his hand and blew kisses to the laughing boys. Zoro merely grunted in response as those around him gave congratulatory words.

“Okay Sanji sit your skinny ass back on the ground, and the rest of you brats before Ivankov starts stuffing you with feathers and sequins let’s get practicing.”

 

* * *

 

The backstage lights were harsh and pounding. Beads of sweat rolled down Sanji’s face, his jacket felt constricting, and his boots were a size too big. On to his left hurried bodies were moving with haste, last minute costume changes and makeup touch ups were urgently requested.

To his immediate right leaning on him for physical support, a nerve wrecked Usopp clutched Sanji with his eyes squeezed closed and muttering out loud his skit lines.

The buzz of excitement and chatter of the audience members just beyond the thick curtain sounded a clear reminder to the glitzed up boys: it was show time.

The crowd of waiting boys were finally signaled to get into position and were ushered onto stage by the backstage crew. Mozu and Kiwi threaded through the boys checking their microphones.

On the far end, Zambia holding down the countdown board. T minus one, so close.

Sanji wiped his sweating palms on his pleather pants. He could hear Ivankov and his team flurrying with racks after racks of extra outfits and the upcoming costume changes needed for the show. Usopp gave Sanji’s arm a quick squeeze as he went to position himself at the other end of the stage.

Quickly glancing back at Zambia, ten more seconds. From the corner of his eye he could see Iceburg inspecting the stage in a swiping gaze, and at his mark, the music began.

Even before the curtains raised, the entire venue exploded with the screams of the audience. The boys held their position as the music raised in volume, and the curtain finally uncovered the darkened stage. Even with the lights set to low, the notions of the performers’ costumes gleaned.

Bon Clay buried between the camera crew and the techies below in front of the stage swayed his hands and surely everyone unraveled and began moving with fixed movements.

Sanji let out the breath he was holding.

Lights, camera, action.

_I played part of a melody again so that I wouldn't forget it_

_Because something even more important than words is here_

The moment Kid and Killer's voices boomed out of their microphones singing in unison the rest of the boys instantly crouched down low near the ground. The Punk Hazard members stood center front on the stage, their arms raised and audience cheered in a craze heat. The guitar and drums rippled in and the stage burst into life. Like a winded toy Sanji released the memorized sequence of arms waves and side steps, it wasn't the most complex of choreographs but it felt deliriously good. This was what the week long hysterical rehearsals escalated to. And they'll rinse and repeat all over again. The interlude came into play, as the entirety of Punk Hazard glided to the front of the stage as the rest of the boys almost melted away to the side of the stage.

"Welcome to Paradise Weekly!" Killer shouted through his mic.

"Everyone! Let's enjoy ourselves today!" Eustass excitedly bellowed out, pumping his fist to the beat of the music, "let's start off with these guys first! Dressrosa!" The two joined those on the side, while the next group charged forward singing the next stanza of the song.

_There wasn't enough of a reason to force yourself to laugh in the strong wind_

Dellinger bounced excitedly as he harmonized with Bellamy. The constant screaming of the audience kept the overall atmosphere of the venue high and ringing. As Dressrosa finished their line, Sanji sidestepped his way through the center back of the stage between Basil and Cavendish. They danced their way to the front of the stage as Dressrosa blended back into the crowd of dancing boys.

_On the road, there were distorted fragments of a dream that had been torn up and scattered there_

As Sanji sang with the other two boys, Eustass introduced them by their names and Sanji's chest puffed with glee as he could hear his fans cheer after his name was called. Like Sanji, Cavendish and Basil's names were followed by loud cheers.

The jimmy jib camera hovered away from the center and smoothly pivoted to the right of the stage as the third stanza of the song began. This time Eustass called out the names of the younger boys as they sang and danced.

_Even if you're pretending to act cool, what kind of song will you sing to convey your love?_

And while Sanji praised himself for his ability to uphold his idol persona on stage, he couldn't help but drop his usual smirk for a small smile, Chopper and Momo were dancing their best. Just as soon as they sang their line the camera zoomed toward the left of the stage.

_Come on, let's go with our life_

Once again the entire stage split into two, and the audience's energy came back in full charge, they knew who was coming out next. Coming out from the very back, and charging to the front, Law led his group as he dragged his mic stand. His usual composure had disappeared as Law excitedly yelled out of his mic, "We are Lvneel!" And the audience screamed bloodily in return.

_I hid the transparent melody in my heart so that I wouldn't lose it_

_Because something even more important than words is here_

Law sauntered to the back of the stage leaving Bepo and Penguin jamming respectively at their bass and guitar. They stood back to back causing several of the female fans in the front to squeal wildly. Sachi was furiously playing his drums, even if he didn't have the mobility like his fellow bandmates, he made sure everyone heard him, and most especially saw him. He twirled his drum sticks and smiled widely as Law crouched beside him. Together they shared Sachi's mike joining the rest of the boys for the chorus.

_Whoa whoa whoa whoa_

_Whoa whoa whoa whoa_

The song ended with a splutter as the boys jammed out their last moves. The entire venue blacked out their lights and the audience manically cheered. A ringing voice burst through the speakers, the screaming never simmered in fact if it was even possible it became louder.

"Whoa that was fantastic!" Shanks boomed, patting the backs of the boys who charged pass him backstage.

"It was amazing, as always." Mihawk hummed in agreement coming from the other side of the stage.

Shanks waved at the audience, "Welcome to Red Line! We are your lovely and handsome hosts, Shanks!" And looking at his partner expectedly, Shanks shimmered his hands towards Mihawk,

Mihawk looked out to the audience with one arm behind his back, and expressionlessly murmured, "I don't need an introduction. I'm sure everyone knows me." Shanks pouted back at his partner as the audience ringed out in soft laughter.

"Mihawks what if there are new fans out in the crowd today?"

"I'm sure they all know me. And unfortunately they will also know you too."

"Is that a underhanded compliment there Mr. Dracule Mihawks"

"Without any due hesitation, let's begin today's show."

* * *

 

The medley ended with Mariejois under the veil of the black lights. Helmeppo and his crew shouted out their thanks and rushed off to stage as Shanks and Mihawk settled into their position off to the side. On cue the lights came back on as the hosts began their routine intermission.

"What a great energy pumping performance! Back in my day I pumped out song after song."

"Are you implying that you can't do that now?" Shanks indigently sputtered at the other man and daintily covered his chest with a single hand feigning mock hurt.

"Well yes, wait. No." Shanks hurriedly corrected himself as the audience members burst out with laughter.

“But hey, that's why what trainees are for right?" Shanks winked at the crowd.

"So I'm sure as everyone has heard, a new group will be debuted today!" Looking down at the camera pit Iceburg signaled back with a thumbs up. Taking the cue Shanks rose up from his stool. "Could everyone give a big hand to, "Monster Trio!"

"Monster Trio, that's a horrible name, who's that?" Zoro mumbled under his breath. Hiding behind the heavy curtains with arms crossed, Zoro frowned at how excitedly the audience broke out into loud talks. Sanji grounded his teeth and seethed out.

"You idiot that's u-"

"That's you guys," Zambai rounded behind them and gives them a slight push onto the stage.

Despite his abrupt entrance Sanji recovered and fell almost immediately into his onstage persona. Flashing a smile as the girls upfront cheered for him Sanji strutted his way towards the two hosts. However the next set of cheers were jarringly loud to the ones he received. It stung Sanji painfully. He threw a glance behind him as Zoro lumbered onto stage after him.

With an expected look at the older men, Zoro and Sanji squared themselves for the launches of questions they prepared for beforehand. However, the red haired host sneakily looked at them.

Sanji looked at the older man knowingly. Looks like Shanks was up to his usual hijinks again, straying away from the scripted dialogue. Sanji crossed his arms and smirked. It’s okay, he'll ad lib his way through. They had classes for that in fact. Three times a week! If he can’t lie on the spot, how could Sanji call himself an idol?

“And last but not least Monkey D. Luffy!"

Ear shattering shrieks and screams broke through the entre venue. Surely someone had suddenly died on spot by how frantic the entire concert hall became, and the way Sanji’s heart pounded heavily in his chest it could had been him. Dropping his previous confident act, Sanji tossed his head from Shanks to the crowd that had exploded instantaneously.

In silent shock Sanji watched a young boy clambered out of the audience. He squeezed between the frenzied camera crew, and a rush of techies flurried to the boy like a group of moths to a light attaching a microphone set onto him. Rather than rounding his way around the stage the boy climbed on with a heavy heave. His was hair was a bird nest of a mess, and he was dressed up in a plain white tee and rolled up jeans. He looked strikingly plain, especially as he sidled up next to the pleather cladded Zoro and Sanji. And yet, he completely reigned the entire stage, all eyes were upon him, all shrieks were directed at him.

If Sanji hadn’t known any better, he could have sworn that some idiotic kid got lost and wandered onto the stage. A quick glance at Zoro told him that that was exactly what the other boy was thinking.

But the tall tell scar under his left eye told him otherwise, that that was indeed Monkey D. Luffy.

The Monkey D. Luffy of ASL.

This isn’t right, Sanji thought. Sanji’s eyes darted nervously across Luffy’s face, the boy looked back, and a large smile was returned back in acknowledgement of the blonde.

He shouldn’t be here.

**Author's Note:**

> The song used in this chapter was Arashi's Kotoba Yori Mo Taisetsu Na Mono


End file.
